


Poison and Roxy: Hopelessly Happy

by D3lusional_Days



Category: Final Fight (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol and Drug References, Body Positivity, Canon Trans Character, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Girl Penis, Lesbian Sex, Newhalf, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Lesbian, Trans/Cis Relationship, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 01:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14885234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D3lusional_Days/pseuds/D3lusional_Days
Summary: A raunchy romantic interlude between two young female criminals in love, with a few glimpses of just how deep that love goes.





	Poison and Roxy: Hopelessly Happy

It's been a long night. We know the Mad Gear are on their way to the top of Metro City — a few more good years like this one and we'll be owning this fuckin' town — but in the meantime, like tonight, the top dogs have got the rest of us pounding the pavement. Extending our sphere of influence, they call it. Me 'n' Roxy, we just call it the good ol' protection racket.

Most folks don't expect anything like us coming through their doors. When they think organized crime, they think of big shark-looking guys in neat tailored suits who talk very quietly and politely about the "insurance" they've come to sell you. Nobody knows what the hell to make of _us_. Dig this: You're hunkered down behind the counter in your store, worrying about the noises you're hearin' out in the street, when your front door flies open and these two bombshells walk in. They dress alike, like twin-sister hookers — pointy-toe high heels, tiny white crop tops, tight little Daisy Duke cutoffs with chain belts, black leather chokers, identical black biker caps, huge fluffy manes of brightly dyed fire-red and hot-pink hair poking out from underneath the caps and falling all the way down to their asses. For a moment, you're not quite sure what to think of these ladies... and then they start talkin', and you realize _they're_ the ones layin' the protection routine on you: "Nice place you got here, be a real shame if anything happened to it." And if you're dumb enough to get mad and protest, that's when one of them suddenly lashes out and breaks something with what you realize is a lead-loaded riding crop, while the other one holds her own crop right under your chin and delicately suggests that you not make any further stupid moves.

Yeah, we get called rotten bitches and cheap thugs a lot, but that just comes with the territory — and hey, nine times out of ten we get the money. One out of ten has a little more balls than the rest, but then we come back and introduce him to our close personal friend Hugo; he's an ex-wrestler, seven-foot-nine, built out of solid muscle, and he looks like he could snap your spine in three places without breakin' a sweat. That's when the guy always folds.

Tonight we've been goin' around to shake down a few businesses the Mad Gear "owns" — some of these guys haven't been keepin' up with their payments. Doesn't matter how much or how little money they're makin', they owe us our share; apparently they needed some reminding. Fortunately, Roxy and I were the only reminder they needed. They all coughed up the cash, no problems, no questions asked... although one guy who didn't have enough green handy paid us in bottles of Jack Daniel's. We lugged it all back to our boss's crib; the guys divvied the money up and handed us our cut, plus a nice big bottle of Jack as a bonus for a good night's work. Real cushy job, right? Take it from two gals who know, it's a pretty damned big step up from whorin' for a living — pays way better, too. And I could always use the money; I've paid off my silicone job and most of my hormone treatments, but I'm still in hock to the doc for the rest of the sculpting stuff.

So we hopped the turnstile into the subway, polished off half the whiskey on the way home, and by the time we're comin' up the steps near our place we've got a nice happy buzz going. Everything's got such a lovely glow to it, especially Roxy. We look into each other's eyes and we can't keep from laughing. Me and her, we've been through a lotta shit together; we grew up in the same orphanage, dropped out of the same middle school, and got to Metro City together by driving across the country on a stolen Harley and a stolen credit card. It was on that drive that we discovered a few things about ourselves; I became absolutely certain that I was a girl, and she realized that she was still into me even if I was a girl. Now, ten years later, we're still inseparable — and here we are staggering home, drunk, a little horny, and hopelessly happy together.

We've got a basement apartment under a laundromat; the stairs leading down to it are in a little alcove just off the street. It's an efficiency, a shitty little two-room rat trap with no dishwasher, one phone, no air conditioning (we've got a bunch of fans for summer and a little space heater for winter), one window, and a floor lamp and an old TV that we found in the closet when we moved in. There's a good solid lock on the door, but there's nothin' inside worth stealing. The floor is yellowing linoleum with a bunch of beat-up, moth-eaten rugs thrown over it, and every so often we kill a cockroach in the place; one time I even had to kill three of the little bastards in the shower. There's a table with empty beer bottles and fast food bags piling up on it, there's another pile of dirty clothes at the foot of the bed (eventually we're gonna have to stop being lazy and haul that shit upstairs to do our laundry), and the bedsheets and the mattress are old and ratty. But it's cheap as fuck, and frankly, we've both lived in worse places. And any place could be my home, just as long as my Roxy is there with me.

We stumble in, still laughing, and lock the door behind us. Roxy takes one more swig from the half-empty bottle, then sets it down on a rickety TV tray table next to the door. Wincing, she kicks her heels off under the tray: "Fuck. I love these fuckin' shoes, but I've been on my feet all goddamn day..."

"I hear you, babe," I say, slipping out of my own shoes and kicking them off to the side. We both sigh contentedly as our aching feet get some relief.

Roxy suddenly leans in, pinning me to the door; she looks up at my face and pouts. "Still not fair," she says. "Dammit, Poison, how come you gotta be so fuckin' tall?"

"Not my fault," I laugh. With our shoes off, I'm at least one head taller than her.

"Oh well," says Roxy. Her mouth turns up in an evil little grin. "At least I'm just the right height to do _this_ —" and she dives forward and plants her face in my cleavage. I let out a shriek of surprised laughter as her hands move up under my shirt and push my boobs inward, mashing them up against the sides of her head; she moves her head from side to side, rubbing against my chest like a kitten, while I giggle and urge her to cut it out. Her hat flies off as she shakes her head, and lands on the floor next to our shoes.

"Mmm," she hums blissfully from her little nook. She pushes my tits together, rests her chin on 'em like they're a shelf, and looks up at me through the fuzzy red fringe of her hair. "You know, if I hadn't known you my whole life, I'd have sworn these were real."

"I should hope so," I reply. "God knows I paid enough for 'em."

"Mmm... I know _these_ are real, though," she smiles. Her hands move from the sides of my breasts to the front; her fingers toy with the nubs of my nipples, and the sensation is enough to make me gasp. "These too," she continues: her hands move downward out of my shirt, and I feel a delicious little tingle as her fingertips skate over the curves of my abs. "And especially _this_..." One hand moves down to my crotch — and fondles a certain bulge beginning to grow in the front of my shorts.

Yeah, about that. There's _one_ surgery I ain't had yet. The big one; the transition. We're still saving up for that one... And to be honest, I'm kind of hesitant about going all the way just yet; I know the procedure's risky as hell. But don't think it's just because I don't have the nerve to face the risks. There's — other considerations involved, I guess you'd say.

"Oh, my," I growl, pushing myself forward against her hand. "Somebody really wants it, doesn't she?"

"Yes," Roxy purrs in response. "Somebody most definitely wants it. In fact—" her free hand grabs one of my wrists and guides my fingers down her bare, velvet-smooth belly to just inside the waistband of her cutoffs — "she's been hungry for it all day."

"I believe it," I say. I maneuver my hand a little lower and cup her mound through her tight panties with four fingers; goddamn, she's wet — I can already feel it. It's her turn to gasp with delight, as her hips give a little rock. "The question is, does she want it right away, or does she want to build up to it?"

"Build up to — no, no," Roxy says dismissively. "Fuck the foreplay." She takes hold of my head, pulls me down to her level, and plants her soft ruby lips on mine; our mouths open, and for a few seconds our tongues caress one another needily. She draws back a little and whispers, her lips moving against mine: "Please, Poison, I want you _now_."

I place my hands on her behind and give her a reassuring little squeeze. "Get on that bed, honey."

Giggling, she plucks my hat from my head and flings it away, then turns and swaggers toward the bed, swaying her tight, round little ass in the way she knows drives me crazy. She drops onto the mattress, casually doffs her shirt, and drops it onto the floor; her bare breasts swing free, and I can see that her own nipples are growing hard with desire. I approach the bed, towering over her as I throw my own top aside. Her eyes, glittering with devotion, dart downward to my shorts, then trail slowly up my body to my face; I don't know whether it's the arousal or the booze that's making her adorable face so red.

She works her Daisy Dukes — and her little white thong panties — down off her ass, slips them off one leg and kicks them away with the other; finally naked except for her leather choker, she throws herself back on the bed, and her hair billows out beneath her in a huge gorgeous red halo that almost hides the pillow under her head. "God, baby," she moans, rubbing her thighs together, "I'm so fuckin' ready..."

"Me too," I whisper, and I undo the buttons of my own shorts and step out of them as they fall. For a second or two, the only thing keeping me half decent is my own little black G-string, but that's gone in no time as well. And here I am, totally nude, relishing the feeling of being looked at as my girlfriend smiles and stares up hungrily toward my hot, hard... well, Roxy calls it my "lady-cock", so that's how I've come to think of it myself.

There's a pile of random stuff on a stand by the bed; I rifle through it and find a little plastic bottle of lube. Yeah, don't care how wet and ready she is, we're still gonna need this... I make a little show of it for Roxy's sake, putting a little dollop of it on my tip, then running my hand up and down my length until my entire dick glistens with the stuff.

Roxy trembles and chews on her lower lip. "Poison... fuck..."

"Spread 'em, sweet thing," I say, kneeling on the bed before her. She giggles and moves her legs out of the way; I'm greeted by a sight I'm never tired of seeing — the tidy, cute little thatch on her mound, shaved into the shape of a heart symbol and dyed as fiery orange-red as her hair. (Me, I prefer to keep it completely clean downstairs; that shit itches like a motherfucker when it starts growing back in.) I scoot up closer until I'm almost towering over her. I reach down and take hold of myself with one hand, guiding the head of my cock towards her waiting entrance; Roxy cants her hips up slightly, making herself an easier target.

There's always that single, electric moment when my tip touches her inner folds for the first time; I take a short, quick breath in, and hear a matching gasp from Roxy. Then I slide in, real slow, taking my time, savoring every sweet, tight inch of her. Our breaths come out at the same time, in two identical long, shaky shudders: "Oh, _fffu-u-u-u-uck_..." I push myself further, further, until I can feel her groin up against mine; I'm buried completely in her, my tip pressing against the resistance of her cervix, her little clit snuggled up to the base of my girl-dick. God, I love this. She's not just tight around me, she's unbelievably hot and sticky-wet; it's as if my cock is resting in an almost scalding-hot bath.

Roxy's body stirs and trembles beneath mine. Her closed eyes gradually flutter open. "Oh Poison," she whispers huskily, "ooh, _honey…_ "

Suddenly her pussy clenches down even tighter around me, as if locking my lady-cock in a satin vise; my mind totters into ecstasy for just a second, and I have to concentrate like crazy not to lose control immediately. "Ooh, _ssshit_ , baby," I blurt out.

Roxy grins, kind of smugly, and ripples her inner muscles around me a little. "Fuckin' love this," she says in a dreamy sigh. "I can feel your heartbeat _inside_ me. I don't know why that turns me on so bad, but it does…" She hooks an index finger through the little leather collar around my neck (identical to the one she wears; we bought them for each other on what we decided was our "fifth anniversary") and pulls me lovingly down into a kiss. A long, deep, passionate kiss — her tongue dances longingly with mine, penetrates my mouth as thoroughly as my cock is penetrating her tight little slit.

After a minute or so, we come up for breath, our mouths staying just millimeters apart while they take in big gasps of air. Roxy sighs. "Mmm... now that's the good shit," she husks, her lips just barely brushing featherlight against mine. "Okay — let's get down to it. Fuck me with that thing, girl."

"Anything for you, babe," I say. I lift my hips a little and pull back, dragging myself out of that silky sweetness nice and slow until just my tip's inside her — and just as nice and slow, I plunge back in as far as I can go. We both let out, in unison, little moans of satisfaction as I continue to move. "How's this?" I ask her.

"Like heaven," she says, giving a little gasp and chuckle; her hips grind against mine, her ass sliding back and forth against the mattress, as she tries to find just the right angle to take me in. I drag across a sensitive area deep inside her, and she trembles and gasps again, the air hissing through clenched teeth. "Oh f-fuck," she stammers, "right there, Poison."

I angle my hips just right so my cockhead brushes against that tender spot, going in and coming out. "Right _here?_ " I grin, working myself in and out a little faster.

"Yes," she moans, and I can feel her fingernails digging into my back a little.

I drive in deeper, my lady-cock moving in long steady strokes like a piston — and yeah, okay, you know what? Fuck it. I can't give this up. A life where I can't be with Roxy like this anymore wouldn't be worth living. I need to be _hers_ , and I need her to be _mine_. I want to be connected with her, inside her, filling her, making her moan and laugh and scream and beg for more. If that means I've gotta spend the rest of my life as a girl with a dick, so be it; I wouldn't trade this feeling of intimacy, this closeness, for anything else, and I don't care what the fuck you're offering... because I can feel _her_ heartbeat, too, and every little twitch and quiver of her muscles, and feeling her wrapped around me is as close to heaven as I'll ever be.

We were drinking one night, and I wound up spilling my guts about how I wasn't sure if it was fear or something else that was keeping me from going all the way, and spewing some dumb shit about how I wasn't good enough for her. She looked at me with shock, then anger. "Don't you fucking do that, Poison."

"Do what?"

"Say that you're not good enough. You ain't ready to have the surgery, fine, don't have the fuckin' surgery — but don't you fuckin' _dare_ call yourself a coward, 'cuz you're not. Okay?" She threw back the rest of her whiskey furiously and glared at me again. "I don't wanna hear this 'not good enough' shit. You are _goddamned beautiful_ just the way you are, and if you're not comfortable with changing any further then that's just how it goes."

I thought it over for a moment or two. "Yeah," I finally said. "You're right. Fuck it. Bein' a — what the fuck's it called? — a newhalf, I'm fine with that." I shrugged and tossed back my own drink. "Not like it makes a difference to anyone but the two of us. I mean, who has to know?"

Roxy looked flatly at me. "I don't think you believe me."

"No, no, I do, it's just—"

She angrily shoved her hat down on her head, pushed her chair back with a loud creak, and stood up. "Fuck this shit. I'm-a go pay our tab, then we're goin' straight home so I can show you something."

She got a death grip on my wrist and practically dragged me all the way back to our apartment. When we got home she slammed the door, yanked my head down to hers, and kissed me passionately, savagely, desperately, so hard I thought her tongue was going to reach my tonsils. "I'm going to teach you," she growled as she fumbled with the door lock, "to love yourself, once and for all."

And she made me strip and stand naked in front of the big cracked mirror in our bathroom, and she had me watch myself as she caressed me and kissed me all over and jerked me off, watch my own eyelids droop and my mouth gape in pleasure and my chest heave deep breaths and my hips and legs tremble as she whispered to me, telling me that I wasn't even remotely ugly or unlovable, that every part of my body was flawless, that my face was perfect, my legs were perfect, my tits were perfect, my ass was perfect, my cock and balls were perfect, that I was beautiful beautiful _beautiful_ and she adored and cherished and worshipped and loved _all_ of me, until I threw my head back and screamed for joy as the fireworks of a glorious climax exploded up my spine into my head and my rock-hard, throbbing girl-cock blasted sticky trails of hot white cum all over my nude reflection.

So yeah, that's how my gorgeous girlfriend gave me the confidence-builder of a lifetime... and why I'm finally comfortable in my body. It doesn't feel weird, or even slightly wrong, to have a dick anymore; it's just part of being me, being Poison. It's kind of a naughty little kick, walking around knowing that nine-tenths of the gang have no damn clue what I'm packing downstairs. And it's beautiful when I'm in bed with my Roxy, just like now, and I get to watch the effect I have on her, the way she writhes and pants and begs for more as I grab masses of her fabulous hair and tease her hard little nipples with my fingertips and nibble on her neck while my cock drives her relentlessly toward the heights of pure bliss; I love to talk dirty while I'm inside her, and she loves to hear me describe how beautiful she is when she cums, when she throws her own head back and digs her nails into my shoulders and squeezes me between her thighs and moans helplessly while her whole body quakes and her tight hungry little cunt milks my lady-cock. I'd say I've ruined her for any other man or woman, but that's horseshit — there won't _be_ any other man or woman; we each know the other one's not fuckin' going _anywhere_. Friends we have, we got loads of 'em, but there's no room in our hearts for anyone but each other.

"I'm gettin' a little tired, babe," I pant into her ear. "You wanna — _mmm_ — ride me for a bit?"

"S-sure," she responds. "Love bein' on top of you." She clamps her legs around me and we twist around until my back is on the mattress and she's sitting on top of me. "You comfortable?"

"Fuck yeah," I say, stretching myself out on our tattered old sheets. "Ride 'em, cowgirl!" I give her a quick smack on one asscheek with the flat of my hand; she gives a little squeak and her eyelids flutter for a second, but then she grins and begins to roll her hips, grinding down on me. Roxy always says it's fun to be on top, to watch me toss my pink hair and clutch frantically at her waist and go all incoherent while the sweet prison of her pussy teases and tantalizes my captive girl-cock. In a matter of minutes she pulls me right up to the edge of ecstasy, and I stutter out: "Are... ooh... are you close, hon? I-I'm about to—"

"Yeah, yeah," she gasps, rocking her hips harder. "Just a few seconds, shit, just a few more, oh fuck, Poison, baby, I'm almost—"

I reach down to the place where we're connected and start fingering her little clit — she likes when I pinch her there, but it's fuckin' difficult hitting a moving target. She throws her head back and shrieks: "Oh my god _YEESSS!!_ " She collapses forward, her fingers clamping onto my shoulders, her whole body convulsing like an earthquake's runnin' through it, and it's the way her inner muscles quiver and squeeze around me that finally shoves me over the cliff. "Oh, god, I'm cummin', Roxy _yyyy!_ " I cry out as I pump my hips up into hers and finally unleash my load inside her. For ten seconds my mind goes blank with pleasure, the world vanishes; there's nothing in the universe but a cock and a pussy, pulsing in sweet unison. Fuck, I love it when we cum together, and I know Roxy loves it too. It's... bliss.

Roxy's hips stop jerking and she just plain falls down on top of me, belly to belly, our breasts smooshed together; we're just one big sweatin' pantin' mess on the bed, and we lie there with our eyes closed, still connected, listening to the sound of each other's breathing, trembling every so often as tasty little orgasmic aftershocks shoot through us like electricity. Eventually I feel her pick her chin up off my shoulder, and I open her eyes to see her staring down at me with hazy adoration. "I'd ask if it was as good for you as it was for me," I mumble, "but I think we both know the answer to that..."

Roxy chuckles. "Abso-fuckin-lutely." She lowers her lips to mine; our kiss is short and sweet — we don't yet have the energy for anything more. "I just hope you don't think we're done yet," she continues.

"Oh, _fuck_ no, Red," I say, running my fingers through that gorgeous crimson mop. "Soon as I get my breath back, I am tearin' that pussy _up_." My other hand glides down her body and gives her tight little ass an affectionate squeeze. "I promise."

" _Mmm_ ," she says, swiveling her hips so her sugar walls lovingly caress my limp lady-cock. "Lookin' forward to that, Pink."

It's gonna be a long, delicious night. Once we get into bed, we can stay there _forever_ ; it's like our own private dirty little playground. I remember one time Thrasher (or whatever he's calling himself this week) slipped us a couple of mollies at a party; we got so turned on just dancin' together that we said to hell with it and ran home to bed before the buzz could wear off — we sixty-nined for three hours straight, and we both lost track of the number of times we came in each other's mouths... ah, memories.

Yeah, I guess it's all a little squalid, but to us it's precious. The way we live, workin' for the Gear, we could both be dead tomorrow — and it's a sure fuckin' thing we won't make it long enough to grow old together. So we spend as much time together as we possibly can; we'll live whole lifetimes in however many years we've got left. Side by side, inseparable, sharing every second, makin' love every chance we get, and hopelessly happy together... and when they finally do take us down, we'll go down together. Like the song says: _Die young, stay pretty_.

**Author's Note:**

> Roxy's on the pill, of course.
> 
> (Kudos, comments, and bookmarks are my life's blood. They encourage me to go on creating. Please let me know what you think!)


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